


tell me why you gotta look at me that way (you know what it does to me)

by MissShipper



Series: a corner for two [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, I could name this "The Trials and Tribulations of having a crush on your friend from work", I had a dream about Jonsa reuniting at work after years of being apart, Starring Sansa Stark and Jon Snow, anyways... here have this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissShipper/pseuds/MissShipper
Summary: It goes like this: dim office lights, the kindness that only a broken heart could recognize, working overtime and a sudden crush.-Or, Jon starts working at the same place as Sansa and she kind of loses it.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: a corner for two [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723603
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115





	tell me why you gotta look at me that way (you know what it does to me)

She doesn’t understand how it all got here - his mouth clashing over hers, legs crossed around his hips, clothes on his bedroom floor as his tongue dances inside of her mouth in ways she didn’t know it was possible.

She remembers his first day at work, though, how every girl in the office whispered about how handsome the new guy was. She remembers how she rolled her eyes at that; he is not that pretty, just an ordinary-looking guy.

Sansa knew who Jon Snow was. Inseparable best friend of her older brother, grew up watching him knock on her first door to pick Robb up to another escapade. In school, he was the mysterious popular guy and everybody wanted to be his girl. She never really understood the appeal. It’s not that he was ugly, because he wasn’t; just nothing interesting or exciting about him. The guy had a regular plain look on his face, seemed to be always away, drowning in his thoughts.

But  _ then -  _

Then he started working with her. And it’s when it kind of starts to go downhill. 

They didn’t exactly sit really close to one another. It was kind of opposite extremes, to be honest. 

But he’s always by the cafeteria when she goes to make her tea. He prefers coffee; black and sugarless. 

The thing is that he always smiles -almost shyly- at her when they meet. The old, “Hey, let’s bond over the fact that we’ve known each other for a long time and now we’re working together”. Except Jon Snow, from what she can remember, does not smile much. Not that he is insolent, no, just has a peculiar sense of humour. 

Sansa never thought that she would one day find herself in this situation. The ridiculous dressing up a bit more, getting her make-up on point, spending more time finding a great outfit and walking unnecessarily to where he sits just so that she could make herself seen. 

Because, well, that’s kind of ridiculous. And Sansa can’t shake the sudden urge to impress him - kind, sweet, sympathetic Jon Snow. 

Jon Snow, who waits to have lunch with her. Jon Snow, who constantly stares at her direction. Jon Snow, who casually touches her arm, kisses the top of her head and hugs her in the morning. Jon Snow, who is just so soft to the touch, she might melt when they’re aligned. Jon Snow, who honestly seems to be flirting with her. 

Except she’s not supposed to flirt back or wait for another chance to just talk to him. Because talking to him is just easy. The way he talks and expresses himself, the way he walks with his hands on his pocket - lazily, taking his time, as if he lives in another dimension where time is all he’s got -, the way he says her name and makes her laugh. 

She can’t help herself. 

He’s really not supposed to be this nice or cool, and yet he is. 

He just is. 

Lately, all she thinks about is him on top of her, his hands covering her waist and making her feel good. She’s been trying to suppress this thing that she’s been holding inside of her chest for quite some time, and she has a lot that she needs to say. Can’t find the right words. 

So she just mentally notes all the things that he does to her. 

It’s quite childish and even obsessive. It’s like she’s sixteen and dealing with her first crush. 

Still,  _ she can’t help herself.  _

Getting to work early, she waits with strange anxiety for the time when he arrives and goes for a hug. He always brushes her back, and his touch is warm. 

Walking past him, she waits for his tiny smile. It does things to her stomach, that smile. 

The worst thing is that she’s not supposed to let herself be carried away by this stupid, sudden crush. 

And yet, she does. And, oh boy, that excitement feels good. It makes her feel alive and believe that someone might want her for who she is. It makes her believe that she doesn’t always have to be alone. 

To be fair, you’d probably get to this conclusion once you’ve dated terrible guys. Her love life was a disaster. Never could truly open up to somebody in spite of really wanting to. The old “I can’t handle being vulnerable around you so that you can destroy my heart in a blink of an eye.” She’s accepted that the intimacy of a true love is not for her; at least not on this lifetime. 

But, you know, having a crush is opening the doors of the rollercoaster of human relationships open wide. 

(Yes, to Jon Snow, she was strangely wide open.) 

Today she had the confirmation that he was really flirting with her. Resting his head on her shoulder, friends comment later on how he is sweet with her, and she finally gives in. It was only a matter of time anyway. 

They start working overtime due to a presentation. It’s Friday night and she just wants an extremely cold beer. It’s kind of frustrating that she has to be working now when she had made plans to have drinks with her sister and friends. 

But Jon Snow, once again, delivers. 

She finds him by the fridge in the pantry, looking rather smitten. Holds up a bottle of Heineken; her favourite. She almost can’t recognize the brand since the bottle is covered in ice. 

It’s stupidly cold. Says they can share, she accepts it. Even calls him an angel. He laughs at that, remarking that he’s no angel. His eyes are fire, and she loves it. 

When they leave the office it’s almost eleven o’clock, but they’re not alone. The rest of the people on the project decided to just go to a pub to loosen up. He looks at her, waits for her answer. She nods, and off they go. 

She would only go if he would, too. 

Sitting on a puffy stool by what might be of the most crowded pubs in Winterfell at the moment, he starts a conversation. 

“Never thought of you like a beer girl,” he says, toasting his glass on hers. 

“You can only work with communication for some years before you eventually start to appreciate a good ale.” 

He wrinkles his nose, trying to fix his glasses where they need to be, and she shouldn’t be attracted to this. Guess his white t-shirt does things to her belly. And his mussed “I-just-got-out-of-bed” hair really helps to build up the image. 

Truth is, he truly is a vision. She admits that now, once she’s getting to know him. He is a nice and decent person, and that, to Sansa Stark, is pure sexiness. 

She realizes, staring at his grey eyes, that she’s going to end this night kissing him on the mouth, the anticipation making it even more exciting. They shouldn’t, she knows, it would only complicate things at work.

But his eyes are inviting, and his hands. Oh my,  _ his hands.  _ She’s been dreaming about those hands hold her tight for weeks now. It’s inevitable, he also knows. 

So when he suggests they go to the balcony, she just follows. They weren’t subtle, and she’s certain that Brienne will tease her on Monday. It doesn’t stop her. She looks up to the sky, feeling a bit disappointed when she notices that there aren’t many stars out there tonight. The night was painted in a mysterious grey colour, almost as dark as black, and it reminded her of his eyes once she caught him staring at her. 

“So, when did you become so nice and cool?” she looks at him, absentmindedly playing with her hair. She was nervous. 

“Always been,” sips a bit of his Guinness. “You were just so caught up in your fairytales to talk properly to me.” 

“Hey!” Sansa protests. “Such a snob…” 

He laughs at the way she rolls her eyes, fighting a smile on her pretty lips. “Well, you asked.” 

“Things have been better since you started,” she says, courage emanating from her body because of the alcohol. “It’s something I get up looking forward to, getting your morning hugs.” 

She feels her cheeks getting warm; he thinks she is beautiful when she doesn’t avert his eyes and allows herself to be vulnerable. 

“It’s another boost for me too, Sansa,” he answers, gaze intense she feels like fainting. 

“You say that you were always this nice,” her voice breaks the silence. “But you never smiled this much back then.” 

“What can I say? It was high school. I was trying to be one of the cool kids,” She doesn’t buy it, he knows that. Sansa drops it anyway. “Growing up I realized that smiling to strangers was kind of therapeutic.”

“You do have a nice smile,” she easily agrees, noticing that she is warmer with the heat radiating from his body. He is getting closer; she is about to lose her mind. “Robb told me that you studied in Dorne.” 

One step closer and his arms ae brushing her shoulder. She turns her head to his direction, his cheeks flushed from the Northern air. And his lips… Such kissable lips. “And you, King’s Landing. Must’ve broken many hearts down there.”

She laughs at the irony. “It was more like the other way around.” 

Jon narrows his eyes, a playful smile on his lips. “Only a fool would do that.” 

“I know,” she says, because after years of suffering, she finally knows her value. She lets go of the balcony, turning her whole body to him. He touches her face, and his hand is surprisingly warm. Sansa closes her eyes. 

“We could be great together.” 

“Where are we gonna go?” her whisper lingers through the cold night of October. 

He gasps for a moment, then pulls her into a hidden corner. She can’t see him, but she can feel him. He’s everywhere. Hand up in her hair, letting go of the tie that holds her messy ponytail, the other pulling her close by the waist. His lips touching hers and setting her whole body on fire. The kiss is slow to savour and relish this feeling in every little detail. The build-up from every day is filled with mad desire, but the explosion is done leisurely, as if speeding things up would ruin the moment. 

She never wants to stop kissing him. 

Grasping at the hem of his black jeans, her trembling hand travels up his body until it settles on his chest. A thick chest, worked-up arms and  _ oh my the way he tilts his head to deepen the kiss is the best thing that’s ever happened in my sexually frustrated life and I don't even care that I'm making out in public.  _

She parts the kiss and although they hadn't been rough, he’s panting anyway. She’s breathless, too. His eyes are dark lust, and she’s sure that her blue eyes are looking like a deep ocean. Sansa whines when his knees open up her legs as she starts to shamelessly rub herself on his thigh. His groan is the only encouragement she needs to let go, now, and kiss him hard. The way she’s always wanted. 

His lips make all of her fears fade into nothing; it’s a divine moment. Cloistered by the atmosphere that he’s created, she’s caught up in every fibre of his body, and it’s truly hard to ignore the strong feeling that this could be more than just a hookup. 

“My place.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes! This is not beta-read and English is not my first language. Only writing for fun. Hope you like it :)


End file.
